Traveling the Paths Chosen
by shielddrake42
Summary: Adventure calls to a young hero! With friends and foes blurring together, secrets and prophecies abounding, issues of trust, and enemies coming from both in front and behind, he and his companions quickly learn that a true adventure is only what you make it. Based on a 3.5 edition campaign.
1. Let the War Fall Away

****Disclaimer: The Dungeons and Dragons franchise does not belong to me in an capacity, and I am not making any profit off of posting this tale. The setting and basic storyline belong to me as the DM of my group (at the time) and the characters all belong to their respective players. I'm also just the scribe who decided to put this story to paper (or rather, webpage) for other readers'/players' enjoyment.

**Prologue: Let the War Fall Away**

Xine once asked a scholar how he would define "war." "War is an organized violent conflict of wills between two or more separate groups or classes, in which one of the groups or classes is determined as the winning side" was the answer he was given.

There were not "winners" in his war, Xine decided. Sure, there was a victor, which was his "side" he supposed, but he would not have used the word "winner." Winning implied you got your way, with little to no negative consequences involved. Winning implied that you had managed to walk away with yourself and your soul intact. Winning did not imply feeling a hole in your heart, ready to bring you to your own death, just thinking about those battles.

He was on the victor's side in that war, but Xine was undoubtedly a loser. He knew this even before the final battle, and especially before that fateful moment when he was standing, watching as the final leader of the enemy's army fell.

How many people did he know died in that war? How many people did he not know die?

Randall had been first. A new recruit, the young half-orc (barely considered an adult) did not have the wisdom or experience to know when not to rush to fight. He fell to a ranger's arrow, which had managed to pierce a weak point in his armor, straight into his right lung. Xine hated those kinds of deaths the most. They tended to be slower and more painful.

Tahoe went next, though no one was absolutely sure of the method of his death. The halfling rogue had been sent on a mission to assassinate the high priest of the enemy army, who had been granted the divine favor of their evil deities. Xine and the others had known Tahoe was successful, because a few days later the news of the priest's death reached the ears of their spies, but the price was expectantly high. Tahoe's body had been sent back in a box, contorted and broken, burned in some places and slashed in others, his flesh barely hanging from his bones. "A warning to all halfling insurgents" the note that came with the box read. A warning indeed.

Nioko's death, if it could be called that, had been one of the most overwhelming. The young psion had been in battle against the enemy's chief psychic warrior. They had been locked in mental and physical combat for five days straight, and Nioko was tiring. That "battle" had made Xine feel more useless than he had ever felt before. Psychic combat was something he knew he could do nothing about, but watching Nioko, who was younger than Xine was, fight this fearsome foe was both terrifying and intriguing. Various psychic powers—everything that went right over Xine's head—went back and forth, until Nioko spotted a gap in the psychic warrior's mental armor. To attack it though, he had to leave himself open to a counter. The enemy was defeated, but had managed to hit Nioko with the Crystallize power. He fell from his position, nothing more than a solid green, humanoid crystal. Nioko took a chance and paid for it. If a psion had been defeated like that, what were the chances of anyone else surviving?

Flashes of these memories flew across Xine's vision, forcing him to see images he wished he were blind to and hearing voices he wanted to be deaf to. Aleksei, his party's dwarven fighter, killed by an enemy axe to the stomach…Kazumi, elven bard, his voice shattered and his neck broken by a heavy mace…Camelia, human cleric, charred by a Lightning Bolt spell, her symbol of Selûne still tight in her praying hands…Savion, human barbarian, whose rage had been stopped short by an onslaught of poisonous darts…Mikhail, dwarven monk, head smashed by a warhammer that managed to take him from behind…

Xine held his hands to his ears. Make it stop! Make it stop!

And the final battle came to the front of his mind. He was back in that final battlefield, on the ruins of the enemy capital. The last council member stood above him, at the top of the broken tower that he had just been thrown from. He had landed safely, by some miracle, but his party's gnome illusionist, Estelle, lay at his feet, her heart stilled. She had not been so fortunate.

The tower had been blasted away, exposing the top rooms as the battlegrounds. Celedor, their elven wizard, was focusing all his power on a Wall of Force spell to defend against the Emperor's Bigby's Forceful Hand. He was holding his ground pretty well. The Forceful Hand spell ended, and Wall of Force fell. Celedor cast Magic Missile, hitting the Emperor square in the chest. He howled in pain, clutching his torso. He focused another spell, Cone of Cold, and cast it in Celedor's direction.

The fight went on for a few more minutes as Xine recovered from his fall. The Emperor was distracted enough by the wizard that Xine saw a number of openings for attack. He reached down to his quiver and pulled out an arrow. However, when he gripped his bow from his back and pulled it out, he realized that it had been snapped in half. It must have been broken during his landing. Damn! He had no way to attack!

The Emperor had ceased casting spells by this point and pulled out a whip. He snapped it at Celedor, tipping him and forcing him to the ground. Xine could only watch helplessly as the Emperor was free to cast another spell, this time Meteor Swarm.

Celedor was tossed from the tower, falling to what was certainly his doom. Xine dropped the weapons he was carrying and rushed to catch the elf. He flipped himself, scraping his back across the ground in order to catch the elf when he was closer to the ground. He gave a groan and twisted to place the elf on the ground. Celedor had his eyes shut in pain, his skin burning and blistering horribly from the Meteor Swarm's fire. He opened his eyes, seeing Xine above him calling his name.

The elf pulled a chain from around his neck, revealing the crescent moon pendant that had been passed down in his family. It was the symbol of the Kitori family, and he always wore it, even in battle. Celedor tugged the pendant from his neck and held it up to Xine.

"For my son and his descendants," he gasped. "Promise me you'll get it to him."

"Don't talk like that," Xine hissed, not taking it. "You can give it to him yourself."

"Promise me."

Xine didn't answer. He couldn't do anything about those wounds; he had no healing skills. Celedor was going to die, and he could do nothing. He needed Soraya. Where was she?

He heard the faint sound of someone casting more spells. Glancing to the Emperor still on the tower, Xine cringed. He was chanting again. Xine felt even more powerless. Estelle was dead, Celedor was dying in his arms, he had no long range weapons, no spells, no healing…nothing. The Emperor looked like he was on his last legs, but he had the upper hand.

A number of meters away, just behind the Emperor, Xine spotted a familiar form. It was Soraya. She appeared as haggard as he felt, a long gash going down her leg to just above her ankle. The best thing was though, was that she had pulled an arrow from her quiver and set it in her bow. Xine had never been more relieved to see her fiery hair than at that moment.

It had been Soraya's shot that fell the Emperor. Her victory in that war, no one else's. That was how he saw it, at least.

Xine snapped back into the present, the clay pot on his pottery wheel slumped and misshaped from not being molded properly while he was caught up in his memories. That was not a joyous event, even though his group and his side were victorious in that fight. It only meant more death, more loss. Why did it come to him now, so long after it had ended? Was his soul and sanity affected that much?

He had lost everything in that war: his homeland, his time, his family, and his friends. He had managed to return Celedor's pendant to the Kitori family and get him and Estelle proper burials. But he had no contact with their families. It was as painful to them as it was to him. The only constant in his life immediately after the war had been Soraya, and now she was gone as well, taken by fever following childbirth. That had been beyond his power too. Although, even after that he had a bit of her left, embodied in a red-headed infant that had grown into an adult he was quite proud of.

And, gods help him, he would not let that boy feel that kind of pain. Not if he could help it.


	2. Red Haired Son

**Chapter One: Red-Haired Son**

Alsor was a pleasant enough town. With a population of a couple thousand, it was large enough to be on maps but not enough to be a destination of many travelers. It was known for its ceramics, but that was the only important export. There were schools, shops, blacksmiths, agriculture, a church dedicated to Pelor, and everything else that was found in towns of its size. It produced travelers every so often, and they nearly always returned with tales to keep the town inhabitants interested. But for the most part nothing particularly special happened there. It was considered rather boring to a lot of adventurers, or those with adventuring in their blood.

Cyrus Ganto thought this about half the time. Although he was content living in Alsor, he did enjoy going out with friends on local quests. He had a special fondness for exploring forests and taught himself to hunt at a young age, making him a rather natural guide and basic wilderness surveyor. Escorting missions, taking out bandits, and especially exploring nearby ruins were some small "adventures" he had…much to his father's chagrin. If it were up to Xine, Cyrus would enjoy simple days as a potter with no major journeying at all.

Now, Cyrus didn't mind his job as a potter (he wasn't above responsibilities) but he didn't understand why his father was so adamant against traveling. He knew that Xine had his own adventures and apparently had fought in a war, though Cyrus didn't know which one or where it took place. His father refused to talk about details, except in regards to how his comrades had died. He supposed it was his father's way of trying to deter him from that path, but even twenty years later Xine had no distinct success.

Putting the finishing touches of his latest pot, Cyrus smiled. He knew the main reason why Xine couldn't distract his son from adventuring: his best friend Dael.

Dael and Cyrus had been friends since childhood. The former had been running around searching for someone to go exploring a nearby forest with him. At the age of six, playing in a forest was the closest thing to an adventure he could get. Cyrus had been messing around with some leftover pottery clay in front of his house when Dael practically insisted that he accompany him. Cyrus knew the boy from school, but they had not talked much prior to then. Cyrus returned later that day, scolded by his father both for going on a "journey" and for coming back covered in leaves and twigs. By twenty years of age, the two had become practically brothers. Along with Haine and Milo, they formed a close group tied by friendship.

On the surface, Cyrus' life seemed like any other…which was part of the problem.

Cyrus picked up his finished pot and placed it in a sagger to protect it from the smoke the wood from the kiln would produce. From there, he put it in the kiln with a few other pots ready to be fired. He stoked the wood and started the fire, closing the kiln up. It would take a short while for them to be fully fired. Cyrus left the room to see to his father, to tell him about the pots.

"Dad! I just put six pots in the kiln!" he hollered, wiping his hands on a cloth. There was no response. "Dad?"

He found Xine on the opposite end of the house, sitting at his own pottery wheel. The pot he was working with had fallen into itself, and was slowly returning to being just a chunk of clay. Xine was still spinning the wheel with his foot, but he was just staring into space, his eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open slightly.

Cyrus sighed. This was not an unusual occurrence. His father had these episodes where he would experience flashes of past events. Most of the time they only lasted a few minutes, and Xine usually would not even remember them happening. Other times, he would start acting as if he was speaking to someone who wasn't there. He would argue with someone named Celedor, praise the singing of a man named Kazumi, form strategies with someone called Aleksei, among other things. Xine even mistook his son for his late wife Soraya once, reinforcing Cyrus' belief that his appearance was a cruel reminder of his mother. These episodes haven't led to any harm to anyone, but it did worry Cyrus.

This made his decision to move out of his father's house even harder.

"Dad?" Cyrus called again, but not touching him. He knew better than to try to physically move his father out of an episode.

Xine jumped slightly, a little dazed. He took one look at his son, then down to his failed pot, and then back up to Cyrus. "Again?"

"Again," Cyrus replied. He paused a moment to let Xine collect himself. "I just put six pots in the kiln. Keep track of them while I'm gone this afternoon."

"Okay, I'll try," Xine replied. When Cyrus didn't move, he tried again. "Okay, I will."

There was a loud knock from the front door leading to their workshop, causing both men to jump in surprise. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure about what had happened, and then Cyrus came to his senses.

"That must be Dael. We're going to go check out that house downtown with Haine and Milo," he explained. "See if it's a good place to move in."

"Should have seen this day coming," mused Xine, clearly having reservations about his only son moving out. "Say hello to your friends for me."

"I will," Cyrus answered, leaving to room to answer the front door. "We're really hoping for this one."

Cyrus opened the door, revealing the somewhat handsome face of Dael Cloninger. The blond gave a crooked smile, shifting his shoulder pack into a more comfortable position. He roughly ruffled his hair, it standing out against his tanned skin from hours of working outside as a farmhand for his family.

"Hey Cy," he said in greetings. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's go," Cyrus agreed, grabbing his own pack with some gold for a deposit on the house. He turned back to the workshop. "Bye Dad! Be home for dinner!"

"Stay safe, son!"

"He's always saying that to you," Dael joked as Cyrus closed the door behind him.

"What can I say?" Cyrus huffed. "He worries."

"Those visions still a problem?" asked the other, concern evident in his voice.

"There're not really visions," the red-head corrected. "But yeah, he had one just a few minutes ago."

"Is moving in with the rest of us really a good idea?"

"I've thought about it a lot. I need to be on my own, and Dad needs to be able to take care of himself. What if I'm not around for some reason?"

"I get that," Dael said. He decided to change the subject. "Haine and Milo are waiting for us at the fountain. Let's get going."

* * *

Alsor's center downtown was unbearably hot in the southern sun. Midday in the summertime is the worst time to be outside, according to Xine. Sitting at an outdoor table, at a popular café, drinking lemonade, Cyrus and his friends had to agree. The four had taken a look at the house they were hoping to rent. Satisfied with what they had seen, they told the landlord they would think on it and went to get something to drink to rehydrate.

Cyrus looked around the table at his friends, all laughing at a joke Dael just told. Dael himself was the least hot of the bunch, his work as a farmhand giving him the advantage of being used to being out in the blazing sun. His dark tan made his blonde hair stand out unnaturally and his clothing that his own mother sewed for him was the deepest forest green imaginable. Cyrus thought that Dael's mother must have been inspired by her son's frequent explorations of the nearby forests. The young fighter was also well trained in close combat with a halberd. Cyrus was the only one so far who could stand up against that halberd, but his longsword was only just enough to do so.

Haine was a bit of an oddball of the group. He didn't actually "join" the group until a few years ago. The reason for this was simple: he was a half-orc, so he matured slightly faster than the other three. While the humans were busy in their adolescence, Haine had already been considered an adult, courting some of the half-orc females in town and working as a blacksmith apprentice specializing in horseshoes. Haine had met Cyrus when the latter purchased a horse for his father as a gift and needed it to be shoed; Cyrus had been sixteen then. It was this friendship that explained how Cyrus, Dael and Milo were all fluent in the Orc language. It acted as their secret language with each other, especially around some others who were not privy to their conversations.

The fourth member of their gang was Milo, the tallest and stoutest of the humans. It was a running joke between the friends that he had dwarf in his blood, though that certainly was contradicted by his height of six feet two inches. The dark-haired man was a year younger than Cyrus and Dael, but it was common knowledge in Alsor that he was much wiser than the others. He had more experience with responsibility, chiefly because of family concerns. He was the oldest of four children, with the others all being female, and his father was paralyzed from the waist down from an accident and unable to work. He had been working for his family his whole life, forcing him to become much older than the nineteen years he truly was.

"And you should have seen the look on Carlo's face when he fell in that horse shit!" Dael mocked with another laugh. "I couldn't have placed it better! Right in line with his face!"

"He didn't see that one coming," Haine responded, in reference to the prank. "It never would have crossed his mind that Anallsa would have worked with you on that trick."  
"I ought to use my sister for things like that more," Dael admitted, proud that apparently the desire to play pranks on this Carlo ran in the family. "Anallsa is a pretty good actress."

"I don't think it's a good idea to play with Carlo's feelings like that," Milo reprimanded, although if one looked closely enough, there was a hint of a smirk on his face. "Or to use your sister as a distraction either."

"Anallsa suggested it," Dael defended. "I wouldn't have Carlo near my sister otherwise."

"I think that just shows she can hold her own," Cyrus admitted. "Kicking him hard enough to spin him and fall in a pile of horse manure!"

"No man is going to mess with my sis again!" Dael proclaimed proudly.

"Unless she wants him too," corrected Cyrus.

"…Unless she wants him to," Dael grudgingly agreed. "But I don't have to like it."

"I think it's hilarious, letting her join in," Haine said. "Almost like she was a brother instead."

"She acts like it, sometimes," answered Dael.

Haine took another gulp of his drink. He held it at his lips for a brief moment, his eyes on something else behind the other three. Putting the glass down, he kept his gaze on whatever had caught his eye.

"Speak of the devil, boys," the half-orc warned, hunching over. "Carlo's giving us the stink eye."

Cyrus turned his head just enough to see the man in question. Carlo was well known in town as a practiced halberd wielder. He could spear the quickest fish with one, though that was not the original purpose of a halberd. It was his ability to wield a halberd that perhaps was part of the reason he was so antagonistic towards Dael, who used the same weapons. He was the aggressive sort, preferring to pester and terrorize Dael and his group whenever possible. Xine always said it was because Carlo was angry that he had not been able to join the gang as a child, but his antagonistic manner made Cyrus seriously doubt that opinion.

At the moment, Carlo was indeed giving the group "the stink eye" that Cyrus was far too familiar with by this point. Tossing his long black hair over a shoulder, he put on a false smile and sauntered up to Cyrus and the others, accompanied by three of his faceless associates. He stopped behind Milo, tapping the end of his weapon on the ground rather impatiently. He apparently decided that his target this time was Dael, probably for the obvious reason that the other man had just been boasting about.

"Cloninger!"

"Fizzano," Dael replied smugly, referring to Carlo's surname.

"Just wanted to let you know, I'm most flattered how your baby sister put out for me the other day," Carlo taunted, his voice just loud enough for some of the other café customers to hear. "But don't think she's on the same level as me. Too bad for her, heh?"

The cronies behind Carlo gave out voiceless chuckles at this "joke."

"My sis doesn't 'put out' for anyone," Dael retorted, appearing calm though his anger at that was clear in his tone. "And you're right. Anallsa would never lower herself to your level. Bad blood an'all that."

The laughter stopped.

"What's that about bad blood?" Carlo demanded, his former attitude changed dramatically from teasing to murderous.

"Rumor has it you're a cousin or something to Colin Fizzano," Haine jumped in, playing along. "You know, the traitor to the King of Albetec? Who betrayed the two eldest princes during the Lizardmen Campaign six years ago?"

"Reason the princes died, that," Dael added.

"Oh boy," Cyrus muttered to himself.

"Exactly, Cyrus," Milo agreed, hearing the red-head. "They're asking for it."

"If you want talk about bad blood," Carlo fired back, this time addressing Haine. "There was plenty of your kind also fighting in the Lizardmen Campaign, orc."

If Carlo was expecting Haine to react negatively to that, he was sorely disappointed. Dael, on the other hand…

"Oh! Racism!" Dael hissed, waving his arms dramatically. "The bottom of the barrel when out of comebacks!"

"So says the one who cares about 'bad blood'," replied Carlo.

"Did you want something, Carlo?" asked Cyrus, tired of this already. Carlo turned to him. "Otherwise, mind your own business."

"Aw, the poor little half-orphan wants the big bad guy to stop his teasing!" the other mocked. The faceless ones began their empty laughing again. "Go run to mum if you can't grow a backbone. Oh wait! You—"

Cyrus jumped at this, unsheathing his longsword and thrusting it to just below Carlo's chin. "Finish that sentence and be a head shorter."

"Cyrus, enough," Milo proclaimed, grabbing the older man's shoulder. "Don't bother with it. He'll just call the guards and get you in trouble."

Carlo defended against the sword with his halberd, knocking it away from his face. "Listen to your little priest-boy, Ganto. Pacifism is your best route anyway, with the way you wave that little knife around." Getting the last word in, Carlo and his cronies then departed.

"I hate that man," Cyrus grunted.

"What is it about him that pisses me off so much?" Dael wondered.

"Just the way he is," Haine answered. "I don't care about his orc comments. You shouldn't about anything else he says either."

"Sorry," responded Cyrus. "He hit a soft spot."

"Yeah," Dael added. "Sorry, Cy."  
"He'll get his eventually, guys," Milo added. "Don't worry about it."

"What did he mean when he called you 'priest-boy'?" Dael asked the younger group member.

Milo didn't answer, the realization of what Carlo had said finally registering. He blushed slightly in annoyance. Haine patted his shoulder.

"Better let them know now, Milo."

"Yeah."

"What happened?" Cyrus inquired.

"Guys, I've decided I'm going to join the priesthood of Pelor," Milo informed them. "I start official cleric training next week."

"That's great!" Dael exclaimed. Cyrus gave a smile of agreement. "I can see you doing that. Your family okay with it?"

"They like the idea," Milo said, unenthusiastically.

"What's wrong then?" Cyrus said with a tilt of his head. "You don't want to?"  
"I do. Just…" There was a slight pause. "I'll be living in the priest quarters at the temple."

"I see, instead of with us at the house…or wherever we end up renting," Dael concluded.

"That's right."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Cyrus asked. Milo gave a shrug of one shoulder, but Cyrus didn't seem upset. "We would have started looking for a place for three, not a place for four. Lower rent that way."

"You're not angry?" Milo questioned. "That I won't be living with you?"

"Angry? What for?" Cyrus replied. There was his brilliant smile again.

"I told you they wouldn't be," Haine interrupted. Clearly, he had known about this before now. "I told him he was crazy if he actually thought you would be mad."

"He is crazy!" Dael laughed. "He wants to give up the female gender!"

Milo gave out a laugh as well. "Dael, don't ever change."

"Couldn't if I wanted to."

"Couldn't if we wanted him to either!" Cyrus jeered. There was more laughter then as well.

* * *

The boys spent the rest of the day uneventfully. They joked, they jostled, they jabbered. Milo spoke about his future cleric duties, and Dael once again bragged about his latest adventure and his plans for his next one. Haine sadly had to leave the fun early, needing to be back at this forge to finish filling an order of horseshoes for the next day. Milo eventually left Dael and Cyrus to themselves to return to his family. He had to pack to move to the priest's quarters, among other family business things.

This left the two best friends walking back home. They were heading for Cyrus' house, since it was closer to the center of town. The Cloninger Ranch was actually pretty far out, for the obvious reason of needing access to more open space for raising livestock and growing crops. Dael did most of the talking, which was not unusual since he was far more passionate about storytelling than Cyrus was. He also tended to have to stories _to_ tell, because he went on adventures far more often. Cyrus felt a little resentful of this at times, wishing that his father was more willing to (and more capable of) letting his son travel farther than the town of Nions, only a two-day walk east. Regardless, he did enjoy listening to Dael's exploits.

They were just about to arrive at the Ganto residence when Dael stopped. Noticing this, Cyrus halted his pace and turned around to face him, his gaze questioning.

"Something up, Dael?"

"I got a map from my employer of my last escort mission," Dael began. "You know, the one from two weeks ago?"

"When you went to Nions again, I remember." Cyrus remembered this, because he yet again had not been allowed to go.

"I got this map," repeated the other. "It leads to some ruins on the northern hills, just a few hours from here."

"Elven ruins?"

"Looks like it."

"You want to go check it out?"

"That's what I was about to ask you, Cy," Dael finished, smirking. "Want to come? You'll only be gone a few hours, so I doubt your dad will notice."

"Sounds good," agreed Cyrus. "When should we leave?"

"Early in the morning tomorrow I think."

"Haine has that horseshoe order, and Milo's moving," the red-head recounted. "So I don't think they can come."

"No, I asked them already, so they wouldn't feel left out," Dael explained. "They said we should have fun."

"Dawn then?"

"Dawn."

With a final nod, Dael left for his own home.


	3. Elven Ruins

**Chapter Two: Elven Ruins?**

Despite what Dael suggested before, he actually showed up at Cyrus' house about an hour before dawn. This ended up not being a problem though, since Cyrus was already up and about – quite a shock to Dael to say the least. The reason? He was making pots. Responsible Cyrus was at it again.

"Dad would kill me if I went off somewhere without getting _something _done," the red-head explained. "And I'm sure he'll be mad enough at me for going off in the first place."

"Daddy's boy," Dael joked. Cyrus only shrugged.

After putting some prepared pots next to the kiln and writing out a quick note to his father telling him where he was going, Cyrus joined his friend outside. The sun was just starting to come up, making the sky flare up in orange and yellow. Cyrus took a deep breath and started walking.

"Got your sword?" asked Dael.

"Nice and sharp," responded Cyrus, shifting his sword to show it off, before moving it back to land on his back, next to his pack. "Where're we going today?"

Dael swung his own halberd that hung on his back, and then plucked a roll of parchment from his belt, opening it. "Map says that the ruins should be northwest from here. Looks like the sun's going to be on our backs. Water?"

"Plenty."

"Then we're off!"

"Don't get too excited."

"Me? Excited?"

* * *

Dael took another look at his map, his gaze going back and forth between it and the compass in his other hand. Cyrus watched him, getting a bit nervous. He relied on Dael as the navigator because he was the more experienced adventurer of the two, and he had never seen the slightly older man having such trouble reading a map before. They had been walking for two hours, and the ruins that were supposed exist were nowhere to be found. Strange.

"Are you sure we're heading in the right direction?" Cyrus finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I think so," Dael said. He was still trying to reconcile whatever problem was presenting itself between the map and the compass. "This map is pretty old and faded, and my compass is busted I think."

Cyrus took the compass. Sure enough, it was broken; its needle was pointing slightly eastward rather than in the direction that Cyrus was positive was north. He then looked over Dael's shoulder at the map; the latter moved the map over so Cyrus could get a better look at it. It was rather faded, but not so much that the landmarks could not be distinguished. The red-head tossed the compass over his shoulder and looked towards the sky.

"If the map says the ruins were northwest from town, and the compass was leading us eastward, then we must have been going directly north. So let's head directly west for a while, which is…" Cyrus described, glancing at the sky for a moment before pointing in the westward direction. "This way. That should put us back on tract."

"How do you know that way's west?" Dael asked.

"I used the sun. It rises in the east, and it was rising when we left. Since its still morning, it will be farther east," the other explained. "So of course, the opposite way is west."

"…I ought to learn directions using the sun," Dael muttered.

* * *

Under Cyrus' direction (much to the surprise of both travelers), an hour later the pair arrived at some archaic ruins, made up of just a few pillars and the remains of a few walls made of stone. The roof was obviously gone, and the doors to the "building" (to use the term loosely) were gone, perhaps because they had been made out of wood as indicated by the type of hinges. There were shattered pieces of ceramics, which probably came from old pottery or something of the like. The stone walls and pillars were well worn, indicating that they had been there for a number of centuries. The ruins only took up about an acre of space, if even that.

"Not exactly what I was expecting," Dael admitted. "Still interesting, but I expected something…"

"Grander?"

"Yeah."

"These stones are really worn down," Cyrus observed, running a hand along the smooth edges of a nearby pillar. "You said these are elven ruins?"

"That's what the map says," Dael confirmed.

"Wonder how old this place is," Cyrus wondered. "Based on what I see here, it would be a few hundred centuries old."

"Especially since elves built it," added the other man. "Considering how long they live."

"Good point. Hadn't thought of that," agreed Cyrus. "It's pretty small too. What would they use it for?"

Dael walked around the pillars, looking around for anything new or interesting. "Maybe as a place of worship?"

"We'd have to ask a scholar of elven history to know for sure," Cyrus said, looking around himself. "Was I being too hopeful to think there might be some treasure to show my dad here?"

"No, but if these ruins are as old as we think, chances are all the treasure has been pillaged by others who found this place first," Dael concluded. "All the good stuff's been taken."

"Too bad," Cyrus replied. "Maybe showing something like that to my dad would convince him that – hey!"

"What?" Dael immediately turned around to see what his friend had yelled about. "Cyrus! What happened?"

Leaping over the remains of a wall, Dael saw that his friend was unhurt and was in fact just staring at a larger, more intact wall. Cyrus looked over his shoulder at Dael, a smile on his face.

"Nothing's wrong, but look at this," Cyrus ordered, gesturing to the wall before him. "Some kind of Elven writing and artwork!"

Only about three quarters of the wall remained, but it was enough to leave quite a bit of old elven script. It was about six feet wide and five feet tall, and the edges had crumbled to the point where some of the language had been lost. Along with the writing, there were some drawings and symbols. Some of the drawings Cyrus and Dael could recognize. One part depicted a series of humanoid figures kneeling before a glowing figure depicted by yellow and gold. He was floating above the kneeling forms, his arms spread out. In one hand he held a longsword, and in the other was a shape like a crescent moon. To the right of the bowing and glowing figures was a darker form, kneeling over in what looked like pain rather than reverence. Cyrus could tell that this was an orc by the shape of the body. What looked like dripping blood was coming from where the orc's head would have been. To the right of the orc were similar figures that were walking away into a hole in the ground. The odd thing about this mural was that the face and hands of the orcs, kneeling figures and glowing humanoid had all been chiseled away.

"Makes me wish I could read Elven," Cyrus complained, clearly annoyed. "That way I could know what it says. What do you think?"

"Maybe we can bring someone who can read it here," Dael thought aloud. "I'm curious too."

"The faces and hands that are chipped off…" Cyrus wondered. "Looks kind of deliberate, huh?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," agreed Dael. He gently touched the bleeding figure. "This one looks like it might be an orc. Maybe this yellow one is an elf?"

"Orcs and elves are enemies, so that would make sense," Cyrus said. "But who would want to deface both orc and elf paintings? Not just an orc. They would just destroy the entire wall instead of just the faces and hands."

"Yeah…" said the blonde absentmindedly.

* * *

The pair left the ruins with no physical evidence and a lot of questions. Leaving the job of navigating them back to town to Cyrus, who was clearly much better at it, Dael was thinking about who in Alsor could read the Elven language and perhaps translate the wall they discovered. He could speak Orc fluently, but Elven was so far out of his league.

…There were the Pelor clerics that Milo would begin training with, and with Milo on the inside he could probably convince one of the clerics who could speak Elven to come and look at the ruins. Then again, many clerics stay in their temples, so they may ask that Dael copy the ruin writing and bring it to them instead. That would be no problem, if Cyrus was up to making another trip. There were also the Kouga twins, who were half-elven…Dael didn't know them very well though, and asking a favor might be a little awkward.

"Dael?" Cyrus' voice took him out of his thoughts. "I smell smoke…"

Dael took a few sniffs himself. Sure enough there was the smell of smoke in the air. Looking up, there was an obvious smoke cloud on the horizon. How had he missed that? His walk sped up to a jog and then to a run when he realized that the smoke was coming from the direction that led to Alsor. Cyrus was not far behind him.


	4. Nightmares

**Chapter Three: Nightmares**

_Please don't let it reach home!_ Dael pleaded in his head, running as fast as he could back to Alsor. The flames were clear to see against the dark clouds that hung in the sky. _Dear Pelor! Don't let it reach home!_

The pair reached the edge of town a few moments later. Various buildings were on fire, and most people were running around in a panic. About half of town was engulfed in flames, crackling down and down, building by building. Dael could hear the voice of the mayor ordering an evacuation and to put the fires out. These fires were not accidents either; full-blooded orcs were running around, some carrying torches and others carrying weapons, slashing at any of the villagers that happened across their path. It was fairly common for Alsor to suffer from orc attacks, to the point where young adventurers who wished for some simple practice at defeating enemies would go out and either scout for or fight against orcs they could find. The direct attacks on Alsor were never to this scale though. Normally invasions were of a couple dozen orcs; this time, however, Dael estimated a couple hundred had come. These orcs apparently had enough with the "practice runs."

"Dael!" Cyrus called behind him. Dael spun around. "I have to find my dad."

"Go," Dael responded simply. "I'll meet you in town!"

"Stay alive!" And with that Cyrus was off.

Dael's biggest problem was that his family's farm was on the other end of town. Because it was somewhat on the outskirts to make more space for growing crops and raising livestock, he hoped that it was left alone while the orcs went after the more populated parts of town. That was a horrible thing to think, but his main concerns were focused on his family and friends.

_The fastest way home is through town anyway_, he thought out. _I can check on Milo and Haine on the way._

* * *

Dael's first stop was the temple. He had encountered four orcs and three small goblins on his way there. At least, those were the foes he fought; there were plenty that he saw, terrorizing the Alsor inhabitants. There were other warriors and guards fighting the many enemies, but they were easily overrun.

The temple to Pelor was no exception. The clerics had been split into two groups. One group was rushing around and treating as many injured people as they could. The other group stayed at the temple to protect it and to provide sanctuary for those the villagers that took refuge there. The chief problem was that there were so many orcs and goblins that the clerics could not keep up. Even the other fighters that took up the cause of defending the temple were not enough to keep the invaders at bay. The west side of the temple was on fire, its stained glass windows shattered and glistening on the ground, and the north side was the focus of the attackers. The once proud sun symbol at the top had fallen from the roof and was crumbled on the ground. It no longer shimmered in the sunlight, but rather its color was dulled by the blackness in the clouds above the city.

_I think the hospital rooms are on the other side_, thought Dael as he reached the north part of the temple. Cutting down a few goblins, Dael called out to Milo, hoping the soon to be cleric-in-training would hear him.

"Milo! Milo!" he yelled. Where was he? "Are you here?! Where are you?!"

There was no sign of Milo at the northern end of the Pelor temple. Thinking that his best bet was inside, in the hospital wing, Dael jumped his way through flames and falling wooden doors and made his way to the southern halls. Milo had always had an interest in healing (which explained why he worshipped Pelor over any of the other deities in Alsor) so that was the most likely place he was.

The hospital wing had already been hit by the orc invasion. Beds were left in splinters, thrown across the rooms, broken and turned over. The hospital equipment had been destroyed, with various surgical instruments embedded into the wall, clearly having been used as projectile weapons with a range of success. There was evidence that a few patients had been brought there at the start, because a few bodies in the rooms belonged to people who clearly were not clerics. The temple must have been attacked soon afterwards.

Among the bodies, Dael searched for Milo, all the while calling out his name. There was no response, and Dael assumed that his friend must be somewhere else. That is, until a very weak voice called out.

"Dael…"

Somehow hearing this tiny voice in the chaos of noise from outside, the blonde spun around and searched the room again. Calling for him again, Dael found him on the other side of an upturned bed. Battered, bruised and bleeding profusely, Milo was in horrible shape. If he hadn't been so familiar with the young man's tall form and facial features, Dael might not have recognized him. Both of his legs were broken and form in odd directions, his blood pooling around his legs from the lacerations. His long, dark hair had been chopped, partially scalping him. Dael saw his mace sitting a few feet from him, and he knew immediately that Milo had been defending his temple with all his might.

Dael remained kneeled at his friend's side for only a split second before standing again.

"Hold on, Milo," he said, his voice slightly panicked. "I'll find a cleric."

"Dael," Milo's deep, quiet voice called out again, stopping the other man in his tracks. "I don't need a cleric now. Could you find me a holy symbol?"

One of the symbols of Pelor, a sun with a face, was sitting on the floor on the other side of the room. Dael rushed to pick it up and pressed it into Milo's hands, which were also bloody and broken. Milo muttered a short prayer before looking back up to Dael.

"You need to find Haine," he ordered. "I heard the orcs earlier. They're after any half-orcs. Find Haine."

"I'm going to find a cleric for you first," argued Dael, though he knew that even if he could find one it wouldn't matter.

"Sorry, Dael," the injured one insisted. "So s-sorry."

"Milo, don't even think about it!" Dael screamed, taking his head into his hands. "Milo!"

But his body had gone cold. Dael held onto him for a few more moments before placing the Pelor's holy symbol on Milo's chest and standing again. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he rushed out of the temple and headed for Haine's smithy.

* * *

Dael reached the town's central square, where the decorative fountain had been smashed, leaving water spouting into the air and falling down almost like heavy rain. There were orcs and goblins here too; in particular, six goblins had thrown grappling hooks at a building roof and were attempting to tear it down. He rushed over to help the three other fighters that were trying to take out the goblins and prevent the building from falling. With the four warriors working together the goblins (and two orcs that had decided to show up) were swiftly taken care of. It wasn't until after that battle that he realized that one of the fighters was Cyrus's father, Xine.

"Where has your skinny butt and my no-good son been?! You and your 'adventures'!" the older man yelled, clearly upset that his son had taken off. He swung his double-bladed sword at a goblin behind him, not even looking as the small humanoid was sliced in half. "I have every right mind to locking Cyrus in his room for the next ten years!"

"Um, sir?"

"Forget the moving in together to your own place!" Xine continued to rant. "He's grounded! Starting today!"

"Sir?"

"Where is Cyrus?!"

"I've been trying to tell you!" Dael yelled back. "He's looking for you! Not sure if he' still at your place, but that's where he was headed last time I saw him."

Xine was still yelling obscenities as he rushed back in the direction of his home. Dael, on the other hand, had a bigger issue at hand. As he rushed down the street that led to Haine's smithy, he encountered a few more goblins on the way as well as some dead and dying bodies, especially half-orcs and half-elves. The sight of a decapitated half-orc compelled him to run faster.

His chest was heaving by the time he reached the half-open building that led into the furnace at the forge. The doors were all open, smashed off their hinges. The coals from the fire itself had been scattered all over the floor, some still hit while others had cooled enough to step on without concern. The anvil had been overturned, and tongs, chisel, hardy, and various other tools were piled around. The orcs or goblins must have thrown them around while looking for something valuable. Water for cooling metal spilled all over, and once hot metal horseshoes had cooled unfinished.

Haine's body was not hard to find. He was lying on his back in the corner of the room, ripped open and disemboweled. His sword was at his side, the blood on it indicating that (like Milo) at the very least he didn't go out without a fight. Dael could not look at him for long though. He hated the sight of his friend in that state; it was even worse than Milo had been.

Cyrus was already there when Dael arrived. He stood in the middle of the room, staring into open space. He still held his own longsword, and it also showed signs of having been used in battle recently. Dael couldn't help but look at him for a minute. He must have been just as shocked at all of this as Dael was.

"Cyrus?"

"…_Half-breeds_?" Cyrus said with a low hiss that shocked Dael quite a bit.

It was at that point that Dael realized that Cyrus was in fact not staring into space. He was staring at the bare wall in front of him, which had nothing on it but a message written in Orc. _"All half-breeds will die."_ Short and simple, just as to be expected from orcs. Orc was rarely put in written form as it was, and what was written were minor notes and threats, just like this one. What Cyrus said was now in context: half-breeds. Milo had mentioned that the intruders were after half-orcs. This must have been a raid to destroy what they considered inferior offshoots of their race.

The worst thing about this message, though, was the fact that it was written in blood. Dael knew exactly where it came from too.

"Cyrus?" he called out to the red-head.

"Yeah?" Cyrus did not take his eyes off the wall.

"Milo is dead," Dael reported. The other just growled in response. "I ran into your father earlier."

"Yeah, he wasn't home," answered Cyrus. "Came here next."

"I told him you were heading to your place to look for him," Dael continued. "And he took off that way again."

"It's like playing hide-and-seek," Cyrus muttered as he ran out of the smithy.

Dael took one last split second glance at Haine's body before running out as well, his thoughts turning to his own family.

* * *

He arrived at his family farm not long after leaving Haine's smithy. Out of the four friends, he lived the farthest from the center of town. By the time he arrived it was turning even darker than before, with nighttime now combined with the already dark rainclouds in the sky. Even from the center of town Dael could tell that the crops his father worked so hard to plow and plant had been set on fire. He could hear the sounds of the horses, cattle and goats trying to escape from their stables to flee the fire. Part of the barn where the sheep were kept had collapsed, and the foolish animals were running round trying to get away from the flames. Dael headed for the main house on the other side of the pastures, which, although not on fire, had clearly been broken into. Furniture was smashed, dishes broken and thrown, the dining and living rooms tables crushed to the point of being unrecognizable…the damage went on.

Dael completely ignored all this as he jumped over the bashed door into the house.

"Dad! Mom! Anallsa! Are you here?!" he cried out, tearing through the house, checking each room as he went. "DAD! MOM! ANALLSA!"

In was in the back room that he found them. He should have expected this at this point, having not found them in town or getting an answer from his previous yells. Dael was frozen in place, looking on at the bodies of his parents and younger sister. Only one thought surged through his mind:

_I'm dreaming! Please let this be a dream!_


	5. A Decision to Make

**Chapter Four: A Decision to Make**

The weeks following the attack were horrible.

The cemetery had filled quickly and had to be expanded due to all the casualties. There were about four hundred deaths, and with Alsor's population having dropped to approximately one thousand there was a lot of work that needed to be done. Buildings had to be rebuilt, roads reconstructed, and, of course, the dead buried. Everyone had to lend a hand to Alsor's restoration; even the youngest of children were put to work doing simple jobs such as delivering messages and moving lightweight building materials.

Dael ended up selling his family's farm, for two reasons. First, he did not have the ability to run a large ranch by himself. Even his family of four had a hard enough time running the ranch, between feeding, caring for and harvesting from the animals, and planting and harvesting crops. Dael did not feel he could handle it by himself. Second, he did not have the heart to live in the house and work on the land where his whole family had been killed. He kept imagining his father's arm with a sword clenched in his hand, clearly having tried to defend his home and family, ripped from his body and thrown across the room. The form of his gutted mother was etched into his mind. And Anallsa…

Xine had been kind enough to offer Dael a place to stay until the young man decided what he was going to do with himself. He worked for the Gantos as a pottery delivery boy, spending his remaining time helping the other citizens of the town rebuild. The repairs were coming along, but the three men were certainly busy taking care of both themselves and the others in the town.

The other survivors of the four friends' family were Milo's mother, Harriet, and his four sisters. They had been lucky (or perhaps unlucky) enough to have gone into hiding in the basement of their home when the orcs and goblins attacked. Milo's father, Charles, however, being paralyzed, was not able to move fast enough to get to the basement, and had shut the door to the underground before the orcs had the chance to find it. Cyrus and Dael tried to take any extra time they had to give Harriet a hand; with four daughters to take care of and only her meager earnings as cook for others to fall back on, she needed all the help she could get.

Three weeks passed since the attack. Alsor was becoming more and more that way it was before, with the exception of a rather somber atmosphere. There had been orc attacks before, but never one to the scale of the last one. It had most of the townsfolk on edge. A number of families had moved away, seeking protection from the larger cities that had their own guard or other means of defense. Some of the villagers who had lost everything (or nearly everything) saw little point in remaining and left to start new lives, either in other cities or as adventurers. Carlo Fizzano was one such example; he had left Alsor two weeks ago "to seek out his fortune," whatever that ended up being.

And then the inevitable happened.

* * *

Cyrus had finished firing a few pots in his father's kiln. It was almost dinnertime, and while he knew that Xine was sitting in his bedroom after a hard day's work, he had not seen Dael in a few hours. The former rancher had gone into town to do some last minute repairs to the Pelor temple; however, that had been in the morning, and he should have been back for a meal by now. It wasn't unusual for Dael to be gone for a good amount of time to do odd jobs in town, but this was longer than normal.

"Dad?" Cyrus called to his father in the back room.

"Yes, Cyrus?"

"Have you seen Dael today?"

"He said he was going to help out with the temple, and then go visit his family's graves," Xine yelled back. Cyrus' head sprang up. He hadn't known Dael was going to do that. "Why? Is he not back yet?"

"Now yet, and it's about time for dinner," Cyrus replied. He washed his hands and grabbed his cloak. It was already getting close to dusk. "I'm going to go look for him."

"I'll cook those beef patties we've got in the chiller," Xine told him, still yelling his responses from the back of the house. "Those are fast."

"Thanks!"

Cyrus shut the door firmly behind him, a habit he had for years when he had to leave the house while he father wasn't in the front rooms, but wanted the older man to know he left. He smiled sadly as he headed towards the Alsor graveyard.

The cemetery had expanded by at least half with the deaths from the last orc attack, and it was also visited by more villagers than it had been on an average day. With the number of sudden deaths in such a short time, it was no surprise that more people would come to visit the graves of their lost loved ones. The clerics of Pelor had been very busy the past three weeks, in which they must have performed on average of twenty funerals a day; every priest available had to perform the ceremony, and they were not always a short matter.

Cyrus passed a few mourning families as he continued to a more familiar part of the graveyard. There was only one grave on this plot, since his family was not originally from Alsor. His parents had moved their shortly before he was born, and whatever extended family he had must have been in some other town or city. Cyrus didn't even know who his grandparents were, let alone any aunts or uncles. His father never told him, and his mother…Cyrus stopped at the single tombstone at his family's plot. "Soraya Anaba Ganto. Blessed and Dearly Missed Wife and Mother." Simple, but at the time Xine had been in no condition to think of anything more profound. Cyrus did not come here often, but he did visit enough times to be able to walk to the plot without thinking. This little rock was the only left of what his mother was about two decades ago. Cyrus never knew her; he had no portraits or pictures of her, and his father rarely spoke of her. The only thing he had of hers was her appearance, and sometimes he cursed that as well.

After saying a short prayer for his mother, Cyrus glanced around to search for the Cloninger gravesite. This was an older plot; apparently Dael's family had been in Alsor for at least a century, but it still did not have many tombstones there. Obviously, the newest ones were for his parents and his sister, Anallsa. It was at the younger woman's grave that he found Dael, praying quietly.

Cyrus waited until Dael was done and had stood up again. The blonde man turned around, and his eyes widened in slight surprise as his gaze came upon Cyrus. Cyrus nodded to him and turned to leave again. Dael hastened his pace to keep up with Cyrus as the two headed back to the Ganto household.

"Cyrus, I've made a decision," Dael said a few moments later. Cyrus looked at him. "I've decided that I'm going to leave Alsor, and go adventure while I can."

"You want to leave?" Cyrus summed up. "I can understand why, but why so soon?"

"There's not much left for me here. My family's gone, I couldn't keep up our ranch," Dael continued, listing off his reasons with his fingers. "I can't keep mooching off of you and your dad for the rest of my life. I just feel like I need to be moving, to be somewhere else, for a while anyway."

"…I can't blame you for feeling that way," Cyrus agreed. "For a while? You plan to come back?"

"I do _like_ Alsor, don't get me wrong," the blonde corrected himself. "But's it's more like a place I'd want to retire. I want to travel and to adventure, before it comes to that."

"You always did have itchy feet," Cyrus stated, using the saying his father would always tease him with, meaning that the desire to travel was strong in him. "Where will you go?"

"I think I'll start with Albera. I haven't been there before," Dael replied. "And then move on to Albetec, eventually."

"To the capital, huh?"

"I'll just play it by ear until then."

Uh-oh. Dael's idea of "play it by ear" nearly always resulted in him getting into some kind of trouble. Although Dael had some experience in adventuring, it was really just as a guard for caravans or small, local adventures like when the two of them had gone to those elven ruins. (In retrospect, Cyrus wondered if they would have survived the orc attack if they had still been in town and taken by surprise just like everyone else had.) The problem with Dael was that he did not always plan things ahead. The most recent example of this was also during the elven ruin trip; he did not think to look at the map leading to the ruins extensively enough to know exactly where he was going, and he had not bothered to check to make sure his compass had been working before setting off. Cyrus knew that Dael could adventure, but to just go by his instinct and by himself? That did not necessarily sound like a good idea.

"And that's where you come in, Cy," Dael interrupted Cyrus' train of thought.

"Oh?" Cyrus yipped. "What do you mean?"

"I was wondering if you would like to come with me?" Dael asked. Cyrus stopped walking and stared at him. "I said, would you like to come with me to Albetec?"

"Dael, you know I would normally jump at a chance like that, but I can't leave my dad and go somewhere that far away," the other protested, crossing his arms. "Dad's not exactly capable of looking after himself. Remember a few days ago, when he almost set the house on fire because he forgot to close the kiln during one of his flashback episodes?"

"I remember. I know it can be that bad," Dael argued. "But you said so yourself, you need to go your own way. He can't depend on you forever."

"That was when I was just moving to another part of town," Cyrus debated back. "Not to another city."

"This could be your big chance to get out into the world, Cy," said the blonde. "Are you going to be his keeper forever?"

"I can't just abandon him that way…"

"Think of something then, that would let you come."

Cyrus lowered his arms, but otherwise didn't move. His own "itchy feet" had been bothering him for years in fact; he had wanted to go traveling ever since he became a legal adult. It was his father's mental condition that kept him in Alsor, looking after him. He loved his father; he was the only family Cyrus had after all, and the one who would stick by him and offer him advice on anything he asked. Despite his flaws, Xine was a loving father who only cared for his son's happiness and safety. That was part of the reason he never wanted Cyrus to go adventuring with Dael: he was too afraid of Cyrus being hurt or killed. But Cyrus could not depend on him forever, just as Xine could not depend on Cyrus forever. There had to be a solution, somehow…

"I'm going to leave day after tomorrow," Dael turned around and began walking home again. "If you're interested, let me know by tomorrow. I'll be going, with or without you."

Cyrus waited a minute before running to catch up with him.

* * *

The following morning, Cyrus knocked on the wooden door to the older house near the Alsor town center. Milo's mother, Harriet, was fortunate enough to have inherited the house her family lived in from her own father, and had been able to raise five children all the while caring for her paralyzed husband without concern about where they would live next. The house had been damaged in the attack, but with the help of the girls and the occasional help from Cyrus and Dael, it had been brought back from a state of disrepair to livable conditions. Harriet only had skills of a cook, and was often out of the house to work for other ladies who did not cook for themselves. There weren't really any nobles in Alsor, but some of the wealthier families could afford a cook. Despite this, Harriet did not make a lot of gold, and with her husband and son dead she was financially stretched quite thin.

Harriet's tired eyes met Cyrus' when she opened the door. Giving him a wide grin that must have been where Milo had inherited his, she let the young man inside.

"Good morning, Cyrus," she greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm doing all right," Cyrus answered. "Yourself?"

"All right too, I suppose," Harriet said. "I think I'm having a harder time getting up in the morning, from my old age."

Harriet was thirty-seven. Cyrus chuckled. "Me too."

She returned the laugh, closing the entrance door behind her. The house was strangely quiet. Where were the girls?

"Where are your daughters?" Cyrus inquired.

"My eldest two got jobs as weavers on the other side of town, and my other two are running a few errands for me," Harriet replied. "Which reminds me, could you look at my stove? It wasn't working this morning when I was trying to make them breakfast."

Cyrus following the older woman into her kitchen, to where the stove was located. The vents where the heat would pass to the top to warm the pots and cook the food had been plugged up, so the heat could not escape. He undid the plugs, using an old spoon to scrape off the debris.

"It's just a temporary fix, I think," Cyrus told her once he was done. "I'm no expert at these things, but you might want to get it professionally cleaned."

"I'll see if I can afford it," Harriet sighed.

Cyrus paused for a minute to wash his blackened hands. Once done, he turned back to Milo's mother. "Actually, Harriet, I came here for a selfish reason."

"And what would that be?" she asked, taking a seat at her table.

"Dael's going to Albetec. He's leaving tomorrow," Cyrus explained to her. She cocked her head, like a dog listening to his master. "He wants me to go with him, and I want to go too. He needs someone with him. Traveling alone could be dangerous, and he's never been to the capital before, and—"

"You always were loyal to your friends," Harriet interrupted him softly. Hers eyes went off into the distance, wistfully thinking of something else. "Milo always praised you for that trait, you know that?"

"He did?"

"He said, that if he ever felt he could depend on someone, it was you," she continued. "And this time is no different. Why don't you go with him then?"

"My dad," Cyrus said simply, and Harriet nodded in instant understanding. "I'm worried about leaving him on his own too."

"His episodes haven't gotten better, have they?" wondered Harriet. "They haven't as long as I've known about them."

"It's not like he's completely incapable of living by himself," the young man described. "I just would like someone to keep an eye on him, every now and then."

"And you were wondering if I would do that while you're away."

"We can pay you for the trouble, and he wouldn't have to move in with you or anything," Cyrus offered. "If you could just check up on him every day or so, I would be incredibly grateful."

"I can do more than that. My third girl, Lia, can go work for him," Harriet replied. "She's fifteen now, and I've been meaning to get her an apprenticeship. If your father is up to teaching her potter skills, then I can also have a set of eyes there on a regular basis. I would check up on him as well, of course, but having Lia there would be more consistent."

"Could you…ask him that after I've left?" Cyrus inquired. "I'm thinking Dael and I might just head out without telling him. He would not let me go if I told him ahead of time."

"…I don't really agree with that, but I can understand your reasons why," Harriet conceded. "Let's do it that way then. And if he isn't up to it, I'll still check on him every day to make sure he's okay."

"You have no idea what this means to me," Cyrus voiced. He reached over and took her hand. "Thank you so much."

Harriet covered his hand with her other one. "You were a dear friend to my son. If it is in my power, I'd help you in any way I can."

* * *

Xine woke up the day after a little later than he normally would. He had been taking advantage of having Dael around to do some work early in the morning. The former rancher was no stranger to getting up before dawn to start harvesting or feeding the animals, and when he came to live with the Gantos that tendency just transferred over to firing pots or cooking breakfast. With both Dael and Cyrus to do this kind of work, Xine was able to rest his older bones until a little later in the morning. The boys didn't seem to mind, and it wasn't as if he spent the entire day in bed.

This particular morning though, Xine woke to unexpected silence and stillness. He had grown used to waking up to the sound of clanking pots or the smell of eggs and bacon, and it now was strange to have those sense stimuli missing. He also could not hear Cyrus and Dael chatting it up in the kitchen or living room. Xine stood from his bed, took a gulp of the water that he always kept next to his bed and headed out to the living room. The couch that had been made into Dael's bed for the past weeks had been made up as a normal couch again, and the kitchen was empty. There was no breakfast made, and when he went to check on the kiln in the workshop Xine found that there was no one there either.

Where were the boys?

It was the parchment on the seat of his pottery wheel that answered this question. Xine would recognize his own son's handwriting anywhere.

_Dad,_

_Dael has decided to head for Albetec. He says he needs some time away from Alsor to get his head on straight again after his family's death. I decided to go with him. You know that he needs someone else to help keep him together. He doesn't always think things through before acting. He needs someone to help him out until he's back to his old self._

_ I feel like I need some space of my own too. Milo and Haine's deaths are still on my mind, and I think getting out of town with Dael will help me get used to the idea that they're really gone for good. I need to do my own adventuring too. Just think of it like I was moving across town like before, only a little further away._

_ I'm sorry we left without telling you. I figured you wouldn't let me leave if I did. I don't mean anything by it, I just want to get out on my own too. I will send you letters letting you know how we're doing, and I won't be gone forever. Don't worry about me, Dad._

_ I've made arrangements with Harriet. She's going to send her daughter Lia as an apprentice and to check in on you. You're not alone, Dad, and I promise to write to you._

_Forever your son,_

_Cyrus_

Xine read the note a few times, letting the words sink in. Once they had, he crumpled the parchment with one hand, anger overcoming his eyes. He stared out the closest window at the morning sun, wondering when exactly his son and Dael had left that morning.

_Damn you, boy!_ Xine thought the first thing that came to mind. The second was: _Cyrus, please stay safe!_


	6. Travels

**Chapter Five: Travels**

And so begun Cyrus and Dael's travels to Albetec.

* * *

It was a two day journey east to Albera. It was known locally as "The City of Trees" since it was in the middle of a forest and a number of houses were built into the tree branches above. It was rumored that the town was originally the home of a druidic circle a number of centuries ago. Druids, however, had a tendency to be nomadic, and abandoned the settlement sometime after completing it. They did return periodically for annual rituals, but they never stayed there long after. This begged the question as to why they bothered to build the tree houses, but this did not deter other travelers from settling there after the fact. In truth, the settlers enjoyed watching the druids perform their rituals there, and the druids were oddly kind enough to let others observe but not participate.

Albera was perhaps only just larger than Alsor, with a permanent population of about two thousand, most of whom were fruit harvesters. The trees provided both shelter and seasonal food. The only things added to the many tree houses were ropes, ladders and bridges so the inhabitants could move amongst the branches. There were still some buildings on the forest floor, but those had been added after the druids had left and were left to those who were physically incapable of climbing to the dwellings above.

Cyrus and Dael had no problems with the trees. Having spent their childhoods in nearby forests and climbing what trees they could, the pair was no stranger to this kind of workout. They used the day talking to the people in town, asking around if there was any work for them or any help they could provide. There was nothing in Albera at that day, so the pair set off again the following morning.

* * *

Dael briefly considered heading south to Nions. He had been there a few times before on escort missions, and unlike some of the other nearby cities he knew it fairly well. Nions was actually a relatively large city, and it was more than likely that they could find some work there. However, Dael knew that his ultimate destination was Albetec itself, and going to Nions would be heading in the opposite direction. He did not mention this plan to Cyrus, who was already talking about what they may find in Maplebrook, which was just about a day's travel northeast of Albera.

It turned out that Maplebrook had suffered from an attack similar to what had happened in Alsor. There was lots of talk of dark clouds and invading monsters. Unlike the orcs and goblins from Alsor's lands, the monsters had mostly been lizardmen. At this Dael and Cyrus looked at one another. They had of course learned in school about the Lizardmen Campaign from six years ago. Somehow the lizardfolk had somehow managed to band together to build and army that attacked town after town on the continent of Alavnar. Some of the eastern towns had been spared, but it was a shock to everyone when the capital city, Albetec, had been attacked. Normally, the metropolis' defenses were impenetrable; however, it had been discovered that there had in fact been a number of spies that let some of the lizardfolk into the city. The leader of the spies, Colin Fizzano, had only been discovered, tried and executed after his actions led to the death of thousands, including two of the nation's princes.

It was unlikely that the lizardmen were building a similar army at this point in time, but just the thought of it brought a chill down Cyrus' spine. His hometown had luckily been unaffected by that small war, and he did not want to think about something like that happening again. It made him think a little bit about his father and his concerns over Cyrus' safety should a battle break out.

Cyrus and Dael spent three days in Maplebrook, helping with rebuilding just as they had in Alsor. The townsfolk were just as sympathetic to their loss when the pair told anyone about the attack on Alsor. They were able to make a little money during those three days doing odd jobs. However, they decided to keep going after that. They had a capital to reach.

* * *

Just a day even further east of Maplewood was Felaton, and it was there that the two travelers encountered their first big problem.

"How much do we have left?" Dael asked Cyrus as they sat in their room in the Dragon's Egg Inn.

Cyrus was sorting out what remained of their money on his bed comforter. Dael had taken all that he had left from when he sold his family's ranch (which wasn't that much considering the state it was in after the attack) and what he had earned while still in Alsor. Taking out the cost of room and board the past few days, it added up to three hundred and sixty five gold pieces. Cyrus contributed notably less, having only taken about a hundred gold pieces from his dad.

"Four sixty-five in a mix of gold, silver and copper pieces," he finally answered, piling some silver pieces together. "We're good for now, but I think Albetec itself is going to be more expensive. It's a big city after all."

"Well, we can at least get one good meal today before we have to be real stingy once we get there," Dael said positively.

Cyrus gathered their coin into two pouches and handed one to Dael. He had initially protested when Dael suggested that they split the money they had, in case they got separated somehow, so that each of them at least had some money. Cyrus did not feel comfortable taking what he knew was mostly Dael's money, but he couldn't really argue with that logic.

They took a seat at one of the tables at the inn restaurant. It was open to the outside, and the hot summer heat was pounding on them. They ordered cool drinks and a good meal; it was as Dael said, they may as well have good meals for a reasonable price while they could. Cyrus enjoyed a well-cooked steak while Dael preferred pork. They discussed what they would do when they arrived in Albetec, a two day's walk from Felaton. Albetec was a metropolis, to put it lightly, and it was no surprise that it was also the capital city of Alavnar. The castle that was the home of the Albetec Royal Family was also there. The two weren't exactly sure what they would find as far as work or adventure went, but a big city was sure to have big opportunity, right?

"Do you think that we could get one of those tours of the castle?" Cyrus asked Dael as he put money down to pay for their bill before replacing his money pouch back on his belt.

"I bet we could," Dael nearly confirmed. "I'd want to see their weapons display."

"Would they let us see something like that?" Cyrus wondered. "I bet they've bumped up security since the war."

"Yeah, point," the other agreed. "But it would be worth checking at least."

The two continued to talk over their meals, planning what possibilities lay once they reached Albetec. They made sure the bill was paid and then headed to the town square. There was not much going on then, because it wasn't a market or festival day. However, there were still plenty of people about talking, children chasing each other and playing, and some vendors selling their wares (most of them food). There was a fountain that was not running for some reason, and a couple of half-elven and elven children were playing around in the water. A dwarven crafter was yelling out descriptions of his wares, trying to encourage passerby to stop and purchase something. There was no work to do, it would appear.

"It's a nice day out, at least," Cyrus said, staring up at the clear sky with no clouds in sight. "Kind of hot though."

"It's always hot here," Dael argued playfully. "Especially in summer. Maybe it'll be cooler in Liantiel."

"Uh, you do realize that's across the sea, right?" Cyrus asked, now confused. "You want to go all the way there?"

"I want to go overseas one day, of course," Dael answered him. "I want to see the world!"

"You're sounding like a little kid," laughed Cyrus. "How about we stick to Albetec first?"

Dael gave him a wide smile. Cyrus walked over to the fountain and watched the children splash around. While there was never a place like this in Alsor, Cyrus and Dael had played together like this for many years. Now they were traveling together to "see the world" as Dael put it. Cyrus had never thought he would leave Alsor, let alone travel to another continent. He had dreamed of it, sure, but with the problems with his father he never thought he would get the chance to actually do it. Such thoughts reminded him that he should send a letter via carrier pigeon to his father to let him know he was doing all right. There was no doubt that Xine had been furious the morning he found his son gone.

Cyrus was pushed out his thoughts, most literally, when a young half-elf knocked into him. He gave out a quick "Sorry" before rushing off. He scoffed at the discourtesy of the young man when he realized that his belt suddenly felt much lighter. His hand rushed to the pouch where he kept his half of their gold, and growled in annoyance when he felt that it was gone.

"Hey, get back here!" Cyrus cried out, rushing after the half-elf. Dael ran after him, apparently realizing what had happened.

* * *

An hour of chasing and searching passed. The two travelers had not been able to keep up with the small thief. Cyrus had barely noticed the half-elf when he ran into him; he was so small that he either had to be a child or he could have been mistaken for someone of another race, like a halfling. He had only gotten a glimpse of wild blonde hair before the thief disappeared from Cyrus' sight. Whoever the thief was, he was either well-trained or just very good at hiding.

Dael and Cyrus found themselves back at the fountain where Cyrus' money pouch was stolen. It was no use continuing to look for the thief, and with only the description of being small with blonde hair to go by, it was impossible to ask if anyone had seen the boy and get any useful information.

"Well, let's look on the bright side," Dael offered as Cyrus slumped down onto the edge of the fountain. "We only lost half our money. We still have my pouch. It was good that we split the money after all, otherwise we'd have nothing."

"I guess…"

"Cheer up, Cy," Dael went on. "We can't do anything about it now, so we might as well make the best of what we do have."

"I was already worried about how expensive it'll be to go to Albetec," Cyrus moaned. "Now we're in an even bigger crunch for cash because I was daydreaming."

"Hey, we all make mistakes," Dael comforted. "We just got to learn from them and move on, an'all that."

"Yeah."

"Come on, Cy. You were enjoying the sun a little while ago," Dael proclaimed, sitting down next to his best friend. "Start enjoying it again!"

Cyrus couldn't help but smile. Dael always managed to cheer him up when he was down.

A little time passed as the pair enjoyed just sitting at the fountain in the town square for a while. Cyrus took to people-watching, as the townsfolk went about their normal lives that day. He ended up noticing a young human walking around the square near the inn. He wore light blue robes and carried a staff, two of the obvious marks of a wizard of some kind. His head was covered by a hooded cap, hiding his hair and part of his face. His light blue eyes looked around with both caution and curiosity. He systematically approached each person in the square and spoke something to them in a quiet voice that Cyrus could not hear. There was a little discussion with each person, or group of people, before he received a negative response. He did not look disheartened though; he simply thanked them and moved on.

Eventually, the young wizard approached Cyrus and Dael. He smiled when they looked up at him.

"Hello, gentlemen," the wizard said in a quiet voice, with a clear accent that told that he was from somewhere very far from Alavnar. "Can I trouble you two with a few questions?"

"No trouble," Dael answered. He gestured to the spot on the fountain next to them. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you, I do need to rest my feet a moment," he said as he sat and rested his staff against the fountain edge. "My name is Jade Asolle. I'm a Diviner from Tarkin's Pass."

"Where's that?" Cyrus asked.

"It lies far north and west of here, on the western edge of the Indigo Mountains on the continent of Syntheria," Jade explained pleasantly. "Tarkin's Pass is a city of Diviners, such as me. We research, experiment, and practice Divination magics."

"On the west side of the Indigo Mountains?" Dael repeated. "But that's…"

"A very long way to journey, I assure you," Jade replied good-naturedly. "There are many temples in Tarkin's Pass, where we sit in meditation and receive prophecies. Some are small predictions, such as when one of our numbers will become sick with a certain disease, while others are huge prophecies that we record and, if the time seems right, we journey to find if the prophecy is actually happening."

"And that's what you're going all the way out here, aren't you?" Cyrus concluded. "You received one of the more important prophecies, and now are looking into when and how it might be fulfilled?"

"Exactly so," replied Jade. "Our Oracle—that's our lead Diviner—received a prophecy about a year ago. When we heard news of events similar to those described in the prophecy, we were sent out to learn more."

"And that brought you all the way to Alavnar?" Dael wondered aloud. "Must be pretty important then."

"It is, especially because the prophecy describes a savior that will save us in our time of need," the Diviner continued. "In a way, we are searching for that savior."

"Have you had any luck?" Dael inquired.

"Not yet," Jade admitted. "Would you like to hear the prophecy?"

"Yeah, if you'll share it with us," confirmed Dael, leaning forward in fascination. Cyrus, although interested, was not nearly as excited.

Jade cleared his throat, and began reciting:

"When the dwarven cities are laid to waste,

And elves hide within their dark wilderness,

When humans have lost their kings to poison,

And dark creatures come forth under black clouds.

The keeper of the land shall come anon,

Arising from the humblest origins,

Having lost a loved sibling to fire,

And gaining a new name unknowingly.

Traveling through forests and across seas,

And wielding a point placed on a wood shaft,

To fight against evil from times long past,

Although they have proven to be allies."

Dael and Cyrus paused and looked at each other. It wasn't a difficult prophecy to follow, but it seemed vague enough to them that they wondered how exactly someone like Jade was supposed to "gather information" about it or "find the savior" that it spoke of.

"Are dwarven cities being destroyed and elves hiding in their forests, like the prophecy says?" Cyrus asked.

"Many of the dwarven cities in Celedan-Har have been attacked by monsters. There have even been some dragon sightings," Jade validated. "I wouldn't say they are 'laid to waste' exactly at this point, but if things keep up with the way they are it will come to pass."

"And the elves?"

"They are more reclusive, preferring to stay in the forest nation of Noralindé," said the Diviner. "But their towns that border Syntheria have been attacked, and many of the elves have fled to their larger cities further inland."

"…You said 'When humans have lost their kings to poison'," Dael iterated, tapping his finger to his chin. "Has something happened?"

"It grieves me to say it, but yes," Jade reported. "The King and Queen of Syntheria were both found dead in their bed a few months ago. The signs all point to poison."

"And let me guess, there's no one to take the throne in their place?" Cyrus questioned, cynically.

"Exactly. The princess is a mere two summers old, and of course not old enough to rule at this time," Jade confirmed. "Currently, High Advisor Javed is acting as regent, but the other advisors, dukes and counts are arguing who should rule for the long-term until Princess Saria comes of age."

"How much do you want to bet that it was actually one of those advisors or dukes who did the poisoning?" Cyrus wondered.

Jade smiled. "You can predict politics better than I may have expected."

"Thanks?"

"So 'dark creatures come forth under black clouds' is the next part," Dael added. "That's a little vaguer."

"Wait, wasn't it cloudy when Alsor was attacked?" Cyrus interrupted somewhat. "And I remember the townsfolk of Maplebrook mentioning dark clouds when they were attacked too."

"Many of the towns that I have visited have reported such attacks, on Alavnar, parts of Syntheria and Liantiel, and the border cities around Celedan-Har," Jade explained, leaning forward a bit. "The two of you saw such attacks as well, I take it?"

"Just one, our hometown," Dael verified. "Alsor, a few days southeast from here. That's why we're here."

"You are refugees, then?" Jade asked.

"In a way," said Dael. "What about the rest of the prophecy?"

"Hmm, it mostly describes the savior that we believe may come," Jade continued. "A 'keeper of the land' who 'arises from the humblest origins,' 'gains a new name unknowingly,' 'lost a loved sibling to fire' and 'wields a point placed upon a wood shaft.' What does that mean to you?"

"Maybe a druid or a ranger for the keeper of the land part," Cyrus reasoned. "And he is probably a commoner, since he comes from humble origins."

"The point on a wood shaft could mean a spear, or some other pole weapon?" Dael added.

"I agree. The lost loved sibling to fire is a pretty obvious point," Jade included. "Although the phrase about gaining a new name 'unknowingly' confuses me."

"What was the last part again?" Cyrus asked Jade.

"It says 'To fight against evil from times long past, Although they have proven to be allies."

"…I have no idea what that means," Cyrus said in surrender.

"It is very possible that we are all completely wrong about this prophecy as well," Jade comforted. His smile widened a little. "If there is one thing about prophecies to remember, it is that they are always open to interpretation. Unless the prophecy comes to pass and we can pinpoint exactly what it means, it can mean anything at all."

"Unless the prophecy comes to pass?" Dael speculated. "So it might not happen at all?"

"That's the second thing to remember about prophecies," Jade said with a nod. "Sometimes things come to pass to make it so that a prophecy never actually is fulfilled."

"But when some parts coming true, you don't want to take the chance," Dael concluded.

"Precisely," Jade concluded. "At this point, I have found everything I think I can. If the savior is coming, it is very likely that he or she will come when we least expect it."

"Sorry we couldn't be more help than that," Cyrus said.

"You help by letting me know about the attacks and by letting me share my tale," Jade debated softly. "This way, the story spreads more easily."

"Good point."

"Which I suppose begs the question," said the Diviner. "You said that you were not precisely refugees. Where are you two going?

"Albetec," Dael answered. "I guess you have been there already."

"Indeed, a number of days ago," Jade told him. His brow furrowed. "Are you aware that they require an entry pass to enter the city now?"

"No, that's new," Cyrus replied. "What does it take to get one?"

"A relatively long process. It took me about three weeks before they completed my background check and interview," the wizard explained. "Do you have that sort of time?"

"Well, we don't have a deadline or anything," Dael voiced. "But it would be nice to not have to wait that long. Doesn't look like we have a choice though..."

"Actually, you do have an option," Jade interrupted. "Let me make you an offer."

The pair sat patiently, waiting for the wizard to continue.

"I have decided that I have gathered all of the information that I can for now, and I will be returning to Tarkin's Pass," Jade described. "Albetec is on the way north to the port cities that will take passengers to Liantiel. I have been traveling alone lately, and the roads can be dangerous."

"You are looking for some escorts, then?" Dael guessed with a grin.

"You don't need any divination spells to predict that request, huh?" joked Jade. "I will, of course, compensate you monetarily as well as allowing you passage into the city itself. Does fifty gold to each of you sound fair?"

Dael looked at Cyrus, who met his gaze and nodded. Perhaps their luck was turning around.


	7. Toils and Tourneys

**Chapter Six: Toils and Tourneys**

"Wow!" Cyrus cried out when he first laid eyes on Albetec.

The term metropolis didn't do the city much justice as far as size goes. It was easily seen from a number of miles away, and Cyrus could tell that it spanned many miles in diameter. There was a tall wall surrounding the city limits, keeping those unwanted out while protecting those within. He could tell that there were more rural areas closer to the wall limits (or what would be the equivalent of "rural") and it only became more crowded and urban in environment as one moved into the center of the town, where the tall castle housing the Royal Family of Albetec stood. The buildings closer to the center were of course taller, but Cyrus could barely make out a large center where one of the tallest fountains stood. He couldn't make out the exact shape of the fountain, but he knew it must be elegant. Fountains were common in the center squares of Alavnar towns, and the one in the continent capital must be a sight to behold.

"Albetec has a population of about 60,000 or so, most of which are half-elves according to surveys," Jade explained, amused by Cyrus and Dael's reactions as they continued their way down the hills. It was clear that neither had ever been to a city this size before. "It has a fair amount of security and many guards, as one would expect from a castle town. Most of their temples worship Corellon Larethian, though there are also some temples to Ilmater, Heironeous, Selûne, and a few others. There are sixty-three inns, over a hundred taverns, and an uncountable number of craftsmen and merchants."

"You must have spent a lot of time there to figure all that out," Dael concluded.

"Three months, in fact. It is a fairly self-sufficient city, although as you can see by the line of entering tradesmen it still needs to import some goods," Jade told him. There was indeed a long line of people waiting to enter the city at the entry gates, many of which had large carts and livestock. The line must have gone on for at least two or three miles. "Fortunately, there's a separate line for regular travelers, the ones who don't need their goods looked over before being granted entrance."

The trio arrived at the city gates and stood in the notably shorter line for travelers without marketable goods. Not only was the line shorter, but it moved more quickly as well. Once they reached the guards at the front of the gates, Jade took out a rather thick piece of parchment and handed it to them. Cyrus and Dael watched on; it must have been the entry pass he had mentioned back in Felaton. The guard took a close look at the papers before raising his gaze to look at the three.

"Total number in party?" he asked.

"Three," replied Jade.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Master Asolle," the guard said in a friendly tone. "Enjoy your stay in Albetec, gentlemen."

Jade thanked the man as the three of them passed through the gates into the outskirts of the city. Cyrus noted that the surrounding wall must have been at least thirty feet high, which would be fairly good preliminary defense against an invading army. As he saw from the hills further away, there were mostly agricultural areas surrounding the outermost parts of the metropolis. Even up the limits of the wall there were crops growing and livestock grazing. There was a huge dirt path between the individual ranches, where the many travelers and traders were walking to the main parts of the town. The three humans found themselves walking along a rancher and his family who was transporting a number of sheep.

After a few moments of walking a small, mangy barn cat sudden took off across the road from one cornfield to the neighboring one. The sudden and unexpected movement startled one of the horses pulling the cart. A slightly older man who was riding the horse cried out as the horse reared back, nearly knocking the man off. Dael sprinted forward and grabbed the horse's halter, speaking in a calm tone and getting the horse to settle again.

"Hey, it's okay, buddy," he said to the horse, rubbing the top of his nose as the horse started to relax. "It's just a cat. No worries now."

After a few more seconds of comfort the horse was back to normal. The owner slowly climbed down from his saddle with a smile.

"Thank you, young man," the man said gratefully. "Normally my son rides the horses with me, but he wasn't able to come to town this time. It makes controlling both horses a little hard."

"Do you need help getting into town?" Dael asked. "I worked on my family's ranch my whole life. If you need another pair of hands, I've got them."

"Would you?"

"Yeah, I don't have anywhere I need to be today," Dael continued. He glanced at Cyrus and Jade. "Right, guys?"

"We are going in the same direction anyway," Jade agreed, and Cyrus nodded.

"Here, master wizard," a young girl at the front of the cart called out to Jade. She leaped down from the cart and held out her hand. "You can sit here."

"I don't wish to take your seat from you, young lady," Jade replied.

"You're not, I've been sitting there all week anyway," the small brunette argued. "I could stretch my legs a bit. Please sit. You are doing my father a favor, after all."

Jade gave her a wide grin and took the seat on the cart. He regarded the man at the horses. "There is much kindness in your daughter, good sir."

"That there is," he answered, ruffled the young girl's hair a bit.

"Anything I can do?" Cyrus offered.

"Have you ever managed sheep before?"

"No sir."

"It's easy. Here, take this crook," the man responded, handing Cyrus a long shepherd's crook. "My nephew's at the back of the herd. Would you give him a hand making sure there are no stragglers?"

"No problem."

"Thank you kindly, young man."

* * *

Coincidence and Dael's skill with horses paid off. Cyrus, Dael and Jade helped the family get to the center square of Albetec and unload the cart. The rancher paid the three of them ten gold pieces each for their assistance. This also worked out because now the three were at the main part of town, and could go just about anywhere from there.

"Do you two have plans now?" Jade asked.

"Nothing set in stone," Cyrus told him. "Find a room at an inn first I guess, and then see if there's anyone else who needs some work done."

"Do you need anything else, Jade?" Dael said.

"No, you two have done a great job as escorts. Thank you again," Jade replied. He removed his pack from his back, pulled out a small pouch and handed it to Cyrus. "I believe I owe you two this."

"Thanks," Cyrus said, putting the money immediately on his belt.

"This probably goes without saying, but be sure to keep an eye on your gold," Jade warned. "I haven't heard of a thief's guild in Albetec, but that doesn't mean that there isn't one at all or that pickpockets aren't looking for some loose purses."

"Yeah, no kidding," Cyrus agreed with a smile. "Good advice. Thanks."

"I suppose this is where we part company then," Jade settled. "It was a joy to meet you Cyrus, Dael."

"Thanks for helping us get into the city," Dael responded to that.

The three men shook hands and then Jade headed off, disappearing into the crowds of the huge city.

"You mentioned getting a room somewhere?" Dael asked Cyrus.

"Just so we have a place to sleep tonight," the red-head confirmed. "I think maybe we should head further from the main square though. Might be a little more in our budget that way."

"Sure thing," said Dael. "Got to keep an eye on our pouches, huh?"

"I won't make that mistake twice."

* * *

After securing a room at the Lady's Fancy Inn, the two sat and planned out the rest of the day. It was still relatively early in the day, so there was time to explore the city and see what was around. After splitting their money again (one hundred and seventy-five gold pieces for each of them) they headed out and returned to the center square. Many of the merchants were setting up their booths for the following day, which apparently was one of the bigger trading days in Albetec.

Since it was discussed earlier and they both still agreed, Cyrus and Dael headed to the castle for a tour. It was only one gold piece for each of them, so it didn't take too much out of their pockets at this point. They were only allowed to see some of the more public areas, such as the castle courtyard, music room, a few of the ballrooms, guest rooms, public dining rooms, art rooms and one of the conservatories (the weapons display rooms were not open to public access). One of the rooms, designated the "Reflection Chamber," was very aptly named because the walls were covered by mirrors. It created an optical illusion that the room was infinite in size, and it made Cyrus feel dizzy just looking at it.

The remainder of the day was spent just walking around some of the more open areas of the city. There were plenty of museums, churches, restaurants and shops to be seen, although they did not go into any of them due to concerns about cost. Cyrus was particularly worried about their money situation, partly because he felt responsible for losing some of their funds and partly because he was always more conscientious about money than Dael ever was. So, despite their desire to see more of the town and its tourist attractions, they instead returned to the inn at the end of the day, ate dinner and slept soundly.

The following day did not lead to anything useful. The two young men offered their services as escorts, bodyguards and laborers to as many people as they could. Most did not require any help, and the merchants at the market were more interested in receiving gold for their good than they were giving it out. There weren't many places that needed new employees either; some of the few were smaller shops with smaller wages, but they were in the shadier parts of the city and the two country boys were more than a little nervous about working in places like that. They did spend a day at one of the churches of Corellon Larethian due to curiosity about the deity, and it was quite the cultural experience for two young men who were used to worshipping Pelor.

After three days of no progress, Cyrus discovered an Adventurers' Guild on the eastern end of the main square neighborhood. He and Dael were able to take on some of the posted adventure requests there, although they were limited to a certain extent. They couldn't take on any that required they leave Albetec (without an entry pass they wouldn't be able to get back in) and there were some that were only available to guild members. Membership required completing ten quests and a two hundred gold membership fee each. Although they could work towards the ten quest requirement, the gold was out of the question unless they wanted to sleep on the streets, and new members did not get the housing benefits that more veteran members received. Regardless, they were able to make some money from some of the quests, most of which involved going into the sewers or watching over a potential assassination target.

This continued on for about a month. They were able to just about break even over the course of that time, and they did have some extra time to see some of Albetec's sights as well as gain experience from their adventures from the Adventurers' Guild. It was rather discouraging though, that they didn't seem to be making any headway. Breaking even was fine, but they did want to do more than that.

Cyrus made sure to send letters to his father via bird post the entire time, to reassure Xine that the two of them were doing just fine. The last thing he wanted was to make his father worry even more than he probably already was.

* * *

Cyrus was sitting on his bed in the Lady's Fancy Inn, counting the money they had as he always did at the end of the day, when Dael came barging in. He was clearly excited about something, if his panting and wide smile were any indication. He had a crumpled scroll of parchment in his hand, which Cyrus looked at curiously. He waited for Dael to catch his breath.

"How much do we have, Cy?" Dael asked him. Cyrus finished his count.

"Have you spent anything today?" he returned with a question. Dael shook his head. "Then we've got three hundred and forty-six gold, and a little extra in silver and copper. Why?"

"I just learned there's going to be a tournament next week!" Dael exclaimed. He handed Cyrus the scroll, which was actually an announcement of the tournament and a list of the contest events. "I was thinking of entering."

"Jousting, sword and shield, polearms, archery…" Cyrus read from the list. "Among other events."

"Dad told me about the big ones, where there were crafting competitions, pig chases, horse racing—you name it!" Dael continued. Cyrus looked at him. It was the first time Dael had mentioned a member of his family since their deaths without becoming closed in on himself. Maybe he was getting better? "I was thinking of entering the polearms competition. You _know_ my skill with my halberd!"

"…I'm guessing that since you asked me how much money we have, that there's an entry fee?" Cyrus concluded. Dael nodded. "Do I dare ask?"

"Two hundred and fifty gold pieces."

"For the whole thing?"

"No, just the polearms contest."

"So that would be the only one you'd be entering?"

"That's right."

"I don't know, Dael," Cyrus said after a moment of contemplation. "That would leave us with less than a hundred gold, and we've just been barely making enough as it is."

"I know it would be better to save it, but think about what would happen if I won?" the other argued. "There's a prize of eight hundred gold to the winner, five hundred to second place, and three hundred to third place. Plus, think about how the Adventurers' Guild would react! They might even offer official membership."

"Not without their own fee, another drain on our money," replied Cyrus. "I don't know…Wouldn't it be better if we saved it?"

"…It's mostly my money that we're dealing with here, Cy," Dael retorted, with a more serious face. "Most of it came from my ranch after all."

Cyrus just stared at him. He already felt bad enough about his meager contributions to their funds compared to what Dael put in, but Dael had never said anything like this before. Was he just rubbing this in Cyrus' face? The biggest problem was that Cyrus couldn't dispute this point; it _was_ mostly Dael's money. Why shouldn't he do what he wants with it? With a heavy stomach, Cyrus pushed the money that was sitting on his bed towards Dael.

The defeated look on Cyrus' face drained Dael of any desire to argue further. "Cyrus, I'm sorry."

"It's _your_ money."

"No, it's _ours_," Dael corrected him. "I shouldn't have said that. It's unfair."

"It's fine," the red-head responded. He forced his voice to sound more hopeful. "Just bring us in that prize money, okay?"

Dael perked up at that. "Okay!"

* * *

"What is the occasion of this tournament anyway?" Cyrus wondered out loud at the registration booth for the polearms contest. "I don't think its harvesting season yet, and there are no holidays that I know of happening now, unless there's one specifically for Albetec."

"That's right, young sir," one of the men at the booth replied. "It is in honor of the deaths of Princes Ichiro and Jiro."

"Those were the two elder Princes of Albetec, who died during the Lizardmen Campaign?" Dael asked. The man nodded. "We're celebrating their deaths with a tournament?"

"It was actually the dying request of Prince Ichiro, the eldest of the four royal brothers," the man explained. It was common knowledge that the Albetec royal family had four sons, although the elder two had died in the war. "He said that he did not want his family and his people to mourn him on the anniversary of his death, but that we should celebrate our warriors both past and present with a tournament."

"That's some logic," Cyrus conceded. "But I guess it makes sense."

Dael finished his registration and the two of them started exploring the tournament grounds. The polearms contest did not start for a few hours, so they had a little time to spend just walking around.

The closest thing that immediately caught Cyrus' eye was the archery practice display. There were ten targets set up thirty paces away from the line, and there was a booth with a slightly older man yelling out that this was the place to practice for the archery contest that would occur later that day. It was open to anyone else who was interested in practicing as well, not just for competitors, according to the man.

"I see you have a bow on your back, son," he said to Cyrus in a friendly tone as he and Dael passed by. "Like to try your luck on my targets? Five silvers for ten arrows, or one gold for twenty."

"I'm not much of an archer," Cyrus said humbly.

"All the more reason to practice then," the man complimented. "I'm sure you're better than you think."

"Why not, Cy?" Dael interjected. "We can't just be here for me after all."

"…All right," Cyrus submitted, taking five silvers out of his money pouch. He still wanted to be careful with what money they had left. "Ten arrows, please."

The man with the arrow supply handed him his arrows. "Give it a whirl, son!"

Cyrus stepped up to the line and faced the target that was closest to the booth. Three other archers were trying their luck as well, and Cyrus could see that they were far more seasoned archers than he was. He pulled back on an arrow, aimed and released. It didn't hit the red center of the target, but it came very close. The man at the booth cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Beginner's luck," another archer, a half-elven woman, said from the spot next over. It was clear from her tone that she was only teasing the boy. "Try again, kid."

A bit surprised by the woman's rather informal words, Cyrus took out another arrow and shot again. This time it landed in the red circle. The woman gave him a smile, congratulated him, and then released an arrow towards her own target.

Cyrus kept going until he used up all ten arrows. Of the ten, six had hit the center mark of the target, and the remaining four has come close. The man running the booth ordered two servants to switch out the target before addressing Cyrus.

"You competing in the archery contest, son?" he inquired.

"No sir, just here to support a friend," Cyrus answered, waving his hand at Dael. "That, and I'm not good enough to compete against some of these better archers."

"Maybe not now, but you show promise," the man praised. Cyrus smiled but looked down sheepishly. "Now, don't deny it. You might not be up for it now, but practice some more and come back in a year or two. I'd like to see how well you do then."

The red-head just nodded at the man, thanked him for the opportunity again, and then left with Dael

"You probably ought to eat something before the polearms, huh?" Cyrus said.

Dael just replied with an unenthusiastic "Yeah" as they headed off to find food.

* * *

"You've been really quiet for a while, Dael," Cyrus commented as they headed for the ring for the polearms contest. "Something on your mind? Worried about the competition?"

"I don't know," Dael admitted. "I was feeling really good about it until just about now."

"What's changed?"

"Look at all these people," he replied, gesturing with his hand the many people carrying various types of polearms, halberds, and longspears. "Lots of them look more experienced than me. I just wonder if I stand a chance."

"You know you're the best in all of Alsor," Cyrus comforted him. "No one could stand a chance against you in practice."

"That was just practice, Ganto," a very familiar voice suddenly said behind the pair. Dael and Cyrus spun around to see none other than Carlo Fizzano, their old rival from Alsor. "This is the big time. Much better fighters here."

"What are you doing here, Fizzano?" Dael asked, trying to keep his voice cool. "You left Alsor months ago. Why'd you end up here?"

"I told you, to seek out my fortune," Carlo responded. He tapped the end of his own halberd on the ground with impatience. "And boy will I find my fortune here."

"What do you mean?" Cyrus wondered.

"Haven't you heard? The Queen is going to be overseeing the competitions here today," the other informed him. Cyrus and Dael looked shocked for a moment. "She'll be presenting the prize money too. When I win this competition, she'll see how good I am and help me get my foot in the door into the Royal Guard."

"You want to get into the Guard?" Cyrus said.

"That's the plan. While you two are scraping the bottom of the barrel with that little Adventurers' Guild of yours, I'll be living it up in the palace," Carlo boasted. He gave a mock salute to Dael. "Well, good luck, Cloninger! You'll need it!"

With that Carlo stepped around the two young men and headed to the arena. Cyrus watched him go, but Dael kept his gaze away. Seeing the wariness in his friend's face, Cyrus gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder.

"Come on, you know you can kick his butt with no problem," he said encouragingly. "He'll be eating those words soon enough."

"That's not the problem. We haven't seen Carlo at all during the weeks we've been here," Dael said. He lifted his gaze to Cyrus' face. "How did he know we've been working with the Adventurers' Guild?"

Cyrus had to concede that he had a point. Before he could say anything to it though, another man came up to them. He had a badge on his chest identifying him as one of the judges for the polearms match.

"Pardon me, but are you competing today?" he asked Dael, who gave an affirmative nod. "May I see your weapon please? We are padding them to make sure that no one gets seriously injured during the competition."

Dael quickly agreed to hand his halberd over. Cyrus took a look around the arena as Dael's halberd was modified. He spotted a large platform at the top of the eastern side of the arena, where a small throne sat. Sitting on the throne was a human woman wearing rather regal clothing. She wasn't exactly old, but she wasn't young either. Cyrus estimated her age to be just slightly older than his own father. She had lovely blonde hair that was starting to turn gray and there were wrinkles around her eyes that gave her a more distinguished look. The woman was watching the people around her eagerly, and would sometimes rise from her seat to go shake the hands of a passing commoner. He thought it was wonderful that someone of her stature would take a moment to do something like that.

Cyrus quickly remembered Carlo's words about the Queen of Albetec overseeing the matches.

_That must be her,_ he thought. He looked back over at Dael out of the corner of his eye. _Better not remind him of that. He's probably nervous enough as it is._

His attention returned to the Queen as she stood and began to announce that the polearms contest was about to begin. Cyrus gave Dael and encouraging slap on the back before the blonde left to join the other competitors.

* * *

Fourth place.

In the polearms competition with sixteen competitors, Dael had gotten fourth place. It was an impressive enough feat, but fourth place didn't get any prize money. To add insult to injury, Carlo had gotten second place, and had acted very friendly with the Queen when she presented him with his prize.

Dael sat dejectedly at the booth in the corner of the Thirsty Lute Inn's small restaurant, pressing a cold compressed to his left eye, as Cyrus went off to get the pair something to eat. The blonde never felt so ashamed in his life, at least that he could remember. Sure, he couldn't have expected to have won that contest easily, but to lose at the semifinals? He now felt incredibly guilty that he had convinced Cyrus to put in most of their money for the entry fee, leaving them with almost nothing left but the loss.

He should have known better that to enter that much in hopes of winning…he _had_ known, but he did it anyway. Part of him wanted to blame Cyrus, for letting Dael talk him into it, but Dael stopped himself. It wasn't Cyrus' fault. He hadn't been the one to so foolishly throw his money away at a long shot. He had been wary of such a gamble from the start.

Speaking of whom, Cyrus arrived back at the booth with a single plate holding a slice of beef, vegetables and brown rice that didn't look well-seasoned. Dael blinked and sighed. They had to stay at one of the more rundown inns closer to the edge of town due to the cost. Based on the meagerness on that plate, the food served there was the same.

Worse than that though… "Only one plate?"

"I counted what we have, and it's enough for the room tonight and maybe the next if we move someplace cheaper," Cyrus explained, cutting the meat in half and letting Dael choose his piece. "But we're going to have to be very careful with our spending now, even when it comes to food."

This statement reminded Dael of the meal the two of them had in Felaton. Cyrus had expressed concern about cost of living in a huge metropolis then as well. Cyrus could be reckless, but he was far more financially capable than he. Dael decided then and there that his red-headed friend would be completely in charge of their money from that day forward.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus," the blonde voiced with another sigh, which were increasing getting on Cyrus' nerves. "I really messed up today."

"It's okay. We just had some bad luck," Cyrus replied. Dael just nodded and ate some of the rice in response. "I don't think we're going to have any luck getting stable jobs here. There're just none available."

"I could have sworn that a big city like Albetec would have jobs though," Dael wondered. "With all the people here an'all."

"I think that's the problem," Cyrus concluded. "The Lizardmen Campaign was just six years ago, and with all the casualties they had to fill the jobs somehow."

"So everyone who was unemployed then got them," Dael realized, logically. "Makes sense."

Cyrus finished off his half of the beef on the plate. "Lordle's a little further west. We might have better luck there."

"Yeah…let's go tomorrow then," Dael settled. "No use looking around here anymore, or wasting our money for rooms."

Cyrus nodded in agreement. Lordle was a port town a three day journey west, and was notably smaller than Albetec (but then again, every other town on the continent was), yet there may be more job opportunities. If nothing else, they were saving the money by not spending it on an inn. There were more chances for hunting for food too. Cyrus scowled. Whoever raised this cow didn't feed it a lot, if the state of its beef was any indication.

The two were just about finished with the plate when a server came over with two, far more full and appetizing-looking meals. She placed them on the table, face expressionless, gave a slight bow and turned to leave. Cyrus looked at both plates and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Wait, wait! There's been a mistake," he said. They couldn't cover the tab for a meal given to the wrong person. "We didn't order these. You must have the wrong table."

"No sir, this is right. It's been paid for by the bard over there," the waitress correctly primly, gesturing to the bard playing what looked like a slightly larger violin with piano keys on the narrow end. He still used a bow to make the music, but instead of changing the pitch of the strings with his fingers, he pressed down on the keys. He was playing a very fast beat, making some of the other customers get up and dance. The waitress continued. "He said it was for you and not to worry about it."

The women took her leave, returning to her other customers. Cyrus' gaze went back and forth between the plate and Dael, and then went up to the bard. He was a half-elf that looked to be a few years older than both Dael and Cyrus. It was hard to tell from where he was at, but Cyrus was pretty sure that the bard was just a bit shorter than he was, if not close to the same height. He had long blonde hair that reached just past his shoulders, but it was tied back. His bardic clothing was yellow and brown, and consisting of leather and some chainmail. Behind him was a sheathed longsword propped up against a stool. His eyes were jade green, and kept stealing glances over at Cyrus, as if encouraging him to eat the food that had been placed in front of him. The song soon ended and the bard went to get a drink from the bar.

"Think it's poisoned?" Dael wondered, poking his plate with a finger?

"Why would a complete stranger want to poison us?" Cyrus asked.

"Why would a complete stranger feed us?" the other retorted. "Maybe part of the initiation into a secret assassin's guild requires killing a random victim."

Cyrus gave him an amused look. "Secret assassin's guild?"

"You never know."

Cyrus cut off a piece of the much larger steak and stuck it in his mouth. It tasted like a normal steak, much better than the thin steak he had shared with Dael earlier. He took more bites from the pasta and the vegetables served with the meat. He supposed that it was possible that, if any poison was present in the food, it may not have any discernible taste to it. He was very doubtful that this was the case though. Dael took multiple bites from his own plate, and moaned as he enjoyed the flavors.

Once the two plates were empty the pair sat back, satisfied by their full stomachs. Cyrus had a little regret spending the money on their first shared plate when they ended up getting a free meal, but he hadn't known that at the time, and he certainly wasn't going to complain about receiving free food either. He looked over at Dael, who had a small smile on his face. It looked like he had cheered up from his disappointment about losing the contest.

"Well, if that was poisoned," Cyrus joked. "It was one of the best poisoned dishes ever."

"I can go to my grave having had a tasty meal as my last action," Dael added.

"Who's going to his grave?"

Dael looked up and saw the bard who paid for their meals leaning against the wall separating the dining booths behind Cyrus. His eyes looked like an even deeper green up close. Cyrus could see that he had his sword at his waist and his rather odd instrument had been swung around to hang on his back.

"I assure you, it wasn't poisoned," the half-elf said. "What motive would I have to poison two young men I don't know?"

"That's what I said," Cyrus agreed.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Saburo Kitori," he announced, putting out his hand to be shaken. He shook Cyrus', and then Dael's, and the two gave him their respective names. "Would it be okay if I sat down?"

Cyrus moved over so Saburo could sit on his side of the booth. The bard sat down rather elegantly, as if he had lots of practice trying to perfect the simple act of sitting. The bard smiled again, and folded his hands on the tabletop.

"I saw you at the archery practice earlier today," he said to Cyrus, before looking at Dael. "And my mother saw you compete in the polearms contest. I have to say that I'm fairly impressed by you two."

"Thanks…" Cyrus said a little hesitantly. "Were you watching us?"

"I'm a bard, Cyrus. Watching people is something I do," Saburo replied. "I was actually looking for someone, or a couple of people, to help me out. When I saw your archery skills and my mother told me how far you got in your competition, I thought I found who I'm looking for."

"What do you need help with?" Dael inquired.

"I'm acting as a representative of the Royal Family of Albetec," the half-elf explained. "I'm to go to the Kingdom of Syntheria and speak with the regent there. Have you heard about the king and queen?"

"They were poisoned and died some time ago," Cyrus confirmed. "They have an acting regent, but there's a lot of argument about who should be ruling now."

"That's right," Saburo answered. "I'm being sent there to discuss the matter, and perhaps help bring an end to the dispute."

"So why were you at the tournament then?" asked Cyrus.

"I'm sure you've heard from other travelers, but the roads are becoming increasingly more dangerous, with all the monster attacks and sightings," the half-elf continued. "I was looking for a person or two to help me get there and return here afterwards. I'm wondering if you two would be interested."

"Why us? Surely you saw more seasoned warriors at the tournament," Dael wondered. He kept his annoyance at the idea that Carlo would be a better choice to himself. "I only got fourth place, an'all, and Cyrus didn't even compete."

"I'm a big proponent of encouraging promising warriors," Saburo described. "You two have that promise, but there is room for improvement. This journey could be a chance for you two to get that."

"…That, and more seasoned warriors would probably be more expensive to hire," Cyrus joked.

"And more seasoned warriors would be more expensive to hire," Saburo parroted him good-naturedly. "Seriously, I think you two could really become something, and it's always good to encourage potential, isn't it?"

"You need to get all the way to Syntheria?" Dael questioned.

"Yes. Here, I'll show you," the half-elf said, pulling out a large map and spreading it across the table. "Obviously, this is Albetec here. I propose we head to Lordle, take a ship to one of the ports in Liantiel, and go on foot from there to Syntheria."

"That's a long way to go," Cyrus noted, taking a look at the distance shown by the map. "Liantiel is one of the smaller nations, but it's still pretty big to cross."

"It is a ways to travel, I admit," Saburo declared. "I would take care of my business at the castle and then the three of us would return here."

"So we're talking at least a few weeks of travel," Cyrus concluded.

"This wouldn't be without compensation, of course," Saburo continued. "I would cover room, board and travel expenses for all three of us the entire time, and when we return here I would give you each two thousand gold pieces."

"Two thousand gold to each of us?" Dael repeated. "Did I hear that right?"

"That's right," Saburo said with a smile. He pulled another couple of pieces of parchment of from his pack and placed them on the table. Cyrus read the first couple of lines before realizing that the papers were two copies of a contract. It must be the agreement that Saburo was proposing. "Here is the formal agreement. You can read it at your leisure, and if you agree you can sign."

"Can we think about it?" Cyrus asked.

"Of course. I would expect nothing less," Saburo concurred. "If you decide to take the job, I will be at the main gates on the edge of town tomorrow morning just around dawn. You can meet me there and then we can head off. I look forward to working with you."

Saburo stood up from his seat with another smile, taking the map but leaving the contracts. He shook their hands once again. He made a stop at the bar to speak with the barmaid, laid down a few gold pieces, and then left the small inn. The other two noticed that the inn had emptied out, and they realized how late it was. With the knowledge that their dinner tab was paid for, they headed up to their room for the night

"He seems very sure that we'll take the job," Cyrus mentioned once the door was closed and they took seats on their respective beds. He read through his copy of the contract. "What do you think, Dael?"

"We were thinking of heading to Lordle anyway, and I've always wanted to go overseas," Dael thought out loud. "And two thousand gold for each of us is _really_ tempting, you've to admit."

"It also would be nice to have someone else worry about the finances while we travel," added Cyrus. "It says here that all room, board, travel and equipment needs will be covered for us, just like Saburo said."

"There's no way we could afford to travel overseas right now otherwise," replied the other. Dael tapped his chin in thought. "I just worry about signing a contract. What if something happens and we need to break it?"

"Saburo seems pretty reasonable, so maybe he'd let us change the contract if something serious came up?" Cyrus offered. "Although, that's just based on my first impression of him."

"No, that's what I thought of him too," Dael agreed. "These contracts seem more like formality than anything else."

"I'm betting he's part of the noble class here," Cyrus theorized. "That's how he's able to pay us so much. And you know now nobles can be with their formalities."

"He's a representative for the king and a bard," Dael summarized. "I wonder if he's a member of the court."

"We could ask him when we meet him tomorrow."

"So you think we should do it?"

"I don't see why not," Cyrus decided. "It seems like a good enough deal, and Saburo seemed decent enough."

"Yeah, I agree," Dael answered. He looked down at the bottom of his contract where his signature was supposed to go. "I guess we better sign these things then. You got a pen?"


End file.
